


A Penny For Your Thoughts

by Anonymous



Category: IT (2017)
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe, Gen, Nobody Dies, no romance no pairings, pennywise doesn't kill any children he just traumatises them, pennywise what the hell, there's vague hints of a creeper but only hinted don't worry, well except one asshole we won't miss
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-15
Updated: 2017-11-15
Packaged: 2019-02-02 23:06:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,449
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12736152
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: An AU in which Pennywise feeds on fear, and fear alone.





	A Penny For Your Thoughts

The droplets of rainwater pattering on his sleeve, slipping down to his wrist. The chill in his fingers, the dampness of the sewer, too cold to smell it but knowing it was there, yet behind it all whiffs of popcorn and hotdogs and candy –

George’s hand snagged onto the paper boat, dry as a sheet in the desert sun, and he drew back so quickly he bumped the back of his hand off the drain’s underside. The clown continued to smile back at him and as he stared, unblinking –

His eyes started to move. One left, one right. Coupled with the teeth it sent a jolt through the boy’s body. No, no, no –

It snarled.

It wasn’t a man, not a clown, there were teeth – the face it made was visible for just a second, but it was enough. With a shriek Georgie tipped backwards –

_Fear, sharp and pulsing like breath into the air._

And his shoulder hit the concrete behind him, his head scuffing off the stone as water dribbled by. Groggy pain lurched through him and for a moment the world was a dizzy, strange place. He had to move, he had to run home, home, away –

But nothing happened, and his fear turned into something else. He was soaked to the bone, and cold, and his boat had crumpled under his body when he’d tripped.

His fear morphed into something else, and the first snuffle was followed by a small wail.

Georgie slowly pulled himself up, sniffing miserably as he peered at his boat –

Red and white.

He saw the clown still watching him from the drain. Its expression blank. Eyes twitching here and there, it looked almost bewildered. As if it didn’t quite know what to make of the situation.

Georgie was ambling to his feet and stumbling home before he could question it, clutching his boat in his hands.

As his footsteps splattered water in his wake, Pennywise watched him go.

It had not been fear it had reaped here, but _sorrow._ Childish, plain misery. It disliked it; while fear was invigorating and spicy, sorrow was nothing, if anything it made it feel groggy and off. It was thick, and heavy, _and cold._ It was bothersome.

So annoying! Was it so difficult for people to be scared these days?

Sinking slowly down into the darkness, it stewed in its disappointment.

...

Pennywise’s mind was linked with the very soil of the Derry. When it wasn’t focusing on his physical form and aspirations, it would sink back into it, drifting and scrolling.

Fear, is what it needed. In the beginning it was abundant, and oh, it was beginning to think it had _hooked_ him like those things humans grew addicted to. Men in the beginning were terrified of each other, their thoughts, their differences, utterly convinced that the spooks and demons they heard of where real. One thing acting as it shouldn’t would send them into a panic. It was easy, so easy, it would giggle for years.

Diets must have variation, and when it tried of fear it leeched off amusement and thrill. The circus rolled into town once, back when Derry was just beginning to find itself. How close the scale could be; something that was meant to be amusing could become terrifying with the right prod; and that little surprise, that shift, that betrayal, birthed a kind of fear Pennywise craved.

And, it rather liked the clowns. Humans looked dull and boring, white and red was much better, don’t you think?

Yes, it was, it quite agreed.

It was his prey, fear, and naturally, it knew how to seek it out. It could see the thoughts swimming around human heads, not much else – just their little worries and anxieties; things that would make them reek of it.

But the adults were so bothersome. It was a jumble he didn’t have _time_ for. And let us be honest, it was boring to become an abusive loved-one that looked like everyone else, or – what was it for one? Not being good enough? That was silly. Not good enough for him.

And turning into mummies and skeletons was so much more fun. Sometimes it even worked on the adults, but children were easier.

It knew of every citizen in the town; their birth, their death, their living, it knew every name of every soul that came into being upon its land.

And their fears.

Tasty, tasty fear. It was always just a thrill, too, to plan and plot and execute most exactly; like real clowns...only opposite ways. Topsy turvey.

So he knew of Georgie. The younger ones were always good for a quick spook, a jump-scare if you will. He needed fuel, he was getting groggy.

And he was surprised when _he came back._

...

The street was empty again; and the sky was grey. But rain was withheld for now, but imminent – Georgie was back in his raincoat and peering into the drain from a few feet away. Practically on the other side of the block, squinting from under his hood.

Ah, reluctance. See, humans ‘have’ to do things. They can’t look but they HAVE to. Curiosity gnaws – Pennywise could attest to that. Hurrah. A do-over. He’d do it better this time.

But as it was about to slink back out of the darkness, its smile fully in place –

It sensed an adult striding leisurely towards their little render-vu, and it swelled once again with indignation.

If it was interrupted against this week _someone_ was getting their feet chewed off, and it wouldn’t be itself.

“Hey there, sonny, you drop something in the drain?” Came a soft country voice from directly above him, and It bore its teeth up at it in silent rue. Tonight, it was making an acceptation, even if adult fears were tedious and difficult it would make this fool _grovel._ Blake Tanner, a friendly uncle, wore smart suits and always trimmed his head. That’s all It cared to know about this human. Bleh. 

“Nooo. Kind of.” Georgie called back, probably looking very out of place, practically lying on the sidewalk. “I dropped my boat the other day. N’ I saw somebody.”

“Somebody down the drain, kid? Nobody would fit down there.”

Oh, but they do, they do. It does.

“Mmm.” Doubt trickled into Georgie’s tone. “I dunno.”

“C’mon, son. It’s going to rain soon. I’ll take you home.”

Pennywise’s form stiffened.

What was that scent? Mouth ajar in contemplation, and eyes rolling to one side as the well-dressed feet strode across to the boy’s side, Pennywise sensed it.

Fear was his fuel.

His only food.

But harming the stalk would be a bad idea; back in the old days they burned a whole lot of women because he scared one man in a long frock.

Couldn’t let that happen again.

In Derry, no children went missing.

Sometimes, It slipped up, and when ignoring the adults, ignored some danger.

...

Mr Tanner lived down the street; he was a nicely dressed man that helped Mom with her groceries yesterday. Georgie allowed him to help him up; his knees were getting sore and itchy from kneeling on the damp ground –

He felt dumb. Dumb as – something. He must’ve imagined the clown, imagined it, and now Billy was going to know he’d ran home yesterday crying like a baby.

But as he was about to haul himself back to his feet, something slipped out of the dark.

No, no, no, no.

It was like time slowed down. Georgie couldn’t move, couldn’t run, he stared at the drain in terror as the white face fading into being.

Pennywise looked normal again, or as normal as he – it? Could.

Then, with Georgie completely at its attention, the clown shook his head without breaking eye contact.

“Stranger Danger, Georgie. You know Pennywise. But Pennywise wouldn’t take you away. That’s a bad thing to do. That’s a bad man, Georgie. Run home. Pennywise will scare him away, Pennywise is the _best_ at scaring.”

“C’mon Georgie, let’s go back to your Mom, okay?”

Hadn’t Mr Tanner heard the clown; the clown that had put on an exaggerated look of disapproval, tutting loudly and waving his finger back and forth?

Georgie tore away from the man’s grip, and down the street. The man didn’t follow.

Pennywise smiled, his eyes twinkled, for now it was just he and the indignant fool left on the street, and as it eyed the man’s back and waited for him to turn around, to give into curiosity and glance down at the drain, Pennywise let his teeth elongate, let his claws twitch through his gloves.

...

_No children go missing in Derry,_

_But whoops, Mr Tanner did._

**Author's Note:**

> Pennywise liked the clowns, okay?


End file.
